


I Was Hiding Under Your Desk Because...

by seriousfic



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:10:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy doesn't have a cover story for why she's hiding under Daniel's desk. She probably should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was Hiding Under Your Desk Because...

Peggy weighted her options even as her instincts acted without her.

 

Being caught under Daniel Sousa’s desk would be embarrassing. Being caught photographically at Spider Raymond’s nightclub would be fatal.

 

As Daniel limped his way to his desk, his crutch banging louder with every step, Peggy hurried her lockpick through his drawer, clicked it open, pulled out the folder. She flipped through the photos inside, scanning desperately for her own form—with the shade of hair dye she’d used, it would be hard to miss—but came up with nothing. She wished she had time to double-check, but Daniel’s crutch sounded right next to the desk. She pinched the folder shut, thrust it back into the drawer, and shut it just as Daniel came around the desk, sitting heavily down in his chair.

 

Up close, Peggy could hear the wince of the metal leg brace under his pantleg. _He must oil it obsessively to keep it from sounding off_ , she realized.

 

He was set on answering his ringing phone, but it didn’t take a trained intelligence officer very long to notice there was a Brit where his feet normally went. Peggy always had enjoyed being noticed.

 

“Peg?” he said with the phone pressed against his chest, his voice not going a single syllable before lowering to hide his surprise from the office. In a hushed, hoarse voice he continued: “What are you doing down there?”

 

“I… thought I’d surprise you.”

 

“You’ve succeeded,” Daniel declared, wide-eyed. “It’s for you.”

 

He held out the handset. Peggy took it, quickly parsing the boss’s request for the Project Rebirth vita-ray detector and promising to get him to it straight away. Then she handed the phone back to Daniel, who hung it up for her.

 

“Is the office quite full?”

 

“It’s emptying out, people going to lunch, where you should be. Or, well, anywhere but under my desk.”

 

“Yes, about that,” Peggy said drolly, as if he’d just brought up her latest hairstyle. She didn’t have a cover story for hiding under someone’s desk—clearly she should’ve. So, in the grand tradition of Captain America, she decided to wing it. “The truth is, Mr. Sousa—Daniel—I’m not altogether comfortable with where we left things the other day.”

 

“The other day?”

 

“When you stood up for me. I fear I was a bit short with you.”

 

“It’s fine, you’re right, I was overstepping my bounds. You’re not mine to protect or—can we have this conversation at eyelevel? People are gonna think I’m talking to my… shoes.”

 

Peggy smiled ruefully up at him. “I’d prefer to stay down here for the same reason I waited for you here to begin with. The fact is, I somewhat return your… consternation… and I feel poorly about being similarly constrained.”

 

“How’s that?”

 

Peggy put her hand on the knee of his wool trousers. “Well, as much as I’m picked on, your handicap makes you as much a target. Those lumbering oafs we share an office with think that you’re somehow less of a man because of your impairment. As if they have an iota of the strength it took for you to keep on after your injury, and make yourself of such service to your country. You have more masculinity in your little finger than they do in their whole rotten bodies.”

 

She thought he might be blushing. “That’s… that really is kind of you to say. And I do appreciate it, I do. But I think we could’ve had this conversation without anyone ducking.”

 

“That’s the thing, Daniel.” She rubbed her hand over his knee, toward his thigh, and thought she could feel the drops of blood in his veins as every one of them rushed to his prick. “As much as I wish it weren’t so, I think there are women who might be just as short-sighted. As unappreciative of you as Krzeminski or Thompson.”

 

“I, uh…” It was terribly unfair of her, but Peggy had always been able to tell when a man’s phallus was humming like a tuning fork. And she thought she could hear Daniel’s vibrate. “I do alright for myself.”

 

“I think we’re rather alike.” Peggy could see the front of his pants beginning to thrust out. “We can be our own worst enemies. Give into doubt, think that the world has us pegged.” She could hear his breath going fast as an engine. “Someone merely voicing their appreciation for us, as heartfelt and sincere as it is, can be ignored.” She fingered the top of his zipper. Drew it down a few inches. “I want to show you just how wonderful I find you. And how I appreciate just what kind of man you are.”

 

Daniel sat there, his hands tightening on the folds of his trouser, not sure if he should touch her. His face was stricken. She pushed a soothing kiss against his zipper before going any further, caught a whiff of him. Musky. Wonderful.

 

“And maybe you can show me just how much _I’m_ appreciated.”

 

She drew his zipper down further, her head tilted to peer into the opening fly, peek what was inside. Another inch and his prick came springing out, its contours outlined by his white cotton undershorts, a thickened shaft pressing out for her. She unbuckled his belt and his fly gaped open, edges folded into a vee, the knob sticking above the band of his shorts and his balls packing the crotch of them full.

 

“I certainly do think you’re one swell gal, Peggy,” he said, at a loss for what else to say.

 

“’Swell’ is right,” she breathed. He was long and hard as a torpedo, and looked equally ready to launch. Not that she had dreaded the prospect of pleasuring as good a man as Sousa, but now it appeared it might prove an engaging challenge as well.

 

Pursing her lips, Peggy blew a stream of cooling breath onto his feverish cockhead. It flared in response, a bulge of precum cresting his slit. “How many people are in the office now?” she asked.

 

Daniel forced his crashed-shut eyes open. “No one! They’re all gone.”

 

“Then it’s left to us to hold down the fort.” She cupped his balls through his shorts. “Good thing you’re loaded for bear.”

 

Ever since her school days, Peggy had been accused of having a wicked tongue. Now she used it on the cotton shorts, scantly licking up from the blast furnace heat of his balls to the very tip of his prick. His precum made a fine hors d'oeuvre.

 

She drew the elastic of his shorts out, letting his cock fly out unhindered. She stared at it, her face pulled tight with concentration. Her tongue glossed over her red lips. “Make sure you tell me when you’re ready to come; can’t have you spilling any.”

 

Daniel nodded fitfully, not able to manage much beyond a croak as far as speech went. Despite his brave words, Peggy thought it must’ve been some time before he had enjoyed female attention—or, she flattered herself, from such a looker of a woman. She hadn’t had much of a social life either. Hopefully, this was more riding a bicycle than playing a piano as far as fading skillsets went.

 

Her nimble tongue came out to play at his swollen scrotum, laving and lapping over the wrinkled flesh, thinking she could feel his balls pumping. With one delicate finger, she lifted them up and licked underneath, tasting the salt of his sweat inside her mouth.

 

Twisting her head underneath him, putting her cheek to the seat of his chair, she sucked one of his testicles into his mouth. With it nestled between her teeth, she gave it a thorough suckle, her face transfigured as she savored the throb of his maleness inside her lips.

 

“Lord almighty!” Daniel’s fingers were tight as a socket wrench on his crutch. “If someone told me you were _this good_ at doing _this,_ I’d sock ‘em one in the jaw!”

 

Her lips slid off his sack. “And if you had told me you were this big, I’d take you for an inveterate liar.”

 

Sweat was pouring down his face. “I am an inveterate liar; I’m only four inches. I’m just really good at conning folks.”

 

“Well, by all means.” She gave him a wink. “Keep it up.” Then Peggy ran her tongue up his shaft, long fluid swipes of her tongue, wetting him from root to knob. It seemed to her he’d taken particular care in hygiene, something Peggy distinctly appreciated. Beyond the slight taste of soap, she only registered him; a rare delicacy.

 

Groaning, Daniel pried his hands off his crutch. “May I put your hands, _my hands,_ in your hair?”

 

“Certainly,” Peggy agreed, ending the word with a touch of her tongue-tip to his cockhead.

 

He nestled his fingers in her hair, careful not to disturb it too much, as she flattened her tongue, making it into a brush to paint the head of his pecker with saliva. He cooed softly, giving into the warm beginnings of a climax, petting her hair with the utmost delicacy. It surprised her, the gentleness in his hands as the rest of him keened with tension.

 

“You’re incredible, Peg!” He gasped it out like she was tormenting him. “Aww geez, I’m gonna shoot!”

 

Peggy shook her head. “I have no intention of allowing this gorgeous prick of yours to finish before I’ve appreciated it fully. It would be a _crime_ of poor taste.” She leaned in, dipping down to run her tongue once more from one testicle to the other. “And this tastes rather good…”

 

She worked her way back up his shaft, gliding over the underside she’d plastered with spit already, finding his knob burning hot for her. She curled her tongue around it, darted the tip into his parted cleft, worked his cock like it was a voodoo doll and she a Haiti priestess. Every little prickle of her tongue wracked seeming agony through his taut body. She almost pitied the man, being subjected to so immense a sensation.

 

“Suck it,” he rasped, his fingers tightening in her hair, his head thrown back like he was in the middle of a fit. “No more _games_ —”

 

“The magic word, Mr. Sousa. I expect better manners from you than this.”

 

_“Please!”_

“Manners maketh the man come,” Peggy quipped over his prick, seeming to address his cock as if it were a microphone.

 

She didn’t close her mouth once she was done talking. She left her lips parted, to slide down over his cockhead, only allowing his knob in before she collared his manhood with her lips. Then she had a luxurious suck on her petite mouthful, her cheeks hollowing inward as she pulled a dash of fresh precum onto her tongue. Wondrous.

 

She sucked more as she drew him further, Daniel moaning as he burrowed into her mouth, her throat, inch by inch by inch as her tongue flashed wickedly against his pulsating length.

 

And as Peggy leaned forward to take him into her mouth, she rested her hands on his knees to hold herself up. One touched wool cloth, as before. The other touched his trousers and the brace underneath, feeling its confines around his damaged flesh. His eyes shot open, she felt them like sonar in the water, she looked up and he looked down, eyes meeting…

 

And she gently rubbed at his wounded leg, feeling it through the cloth, scars and metal and all, her touch showing no reticence, no horror. She had seen far worse injuries, far greater horrors conjured by the Red Skull and his like. Her experience was that such thing paled next to the spirit of a good man, a good woman. Like Steve. Like herself, perhaps. Now, maybe, like him.

 

She gave no further mercy, no restraint. If she was to have him, she wanted all of him. As he frantically combed his fingers through her hair, as if begging for benevolence, his cockhead lodged in her throat. Daniel bit his lip, figuring that was all she could take—more than anyone else ever had—but after a moment to work on his knob like a bellows, making sure it was as big as it would do, she carried on, pursed lips heading inexorably for his balls.

 

“It’s all yours, baby,” Daniel moaned, his eyes pulled tightly shut once more as he gave into her. “Take it, it’s all yours…”

 

But Peggy gripped his tie and pulled hard on it, forcing him to look down and see her with her nose pressed to his pubic hair, her chin brushing his balls. Only then, with his eyes raptly watching, did she pull back, her lips disgorging his prick like a sword-swallowing act in reverse. She stopped, head upturned so his cock came out head perching on her chin.

 

“Are you going to come?” she asked him.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“There’s a good fellow,” she said before ducking back down and taking his whole prick inside her.

 

Daniel fucked her mouth now, helpless not to pump urgently against her descending mouth, her eyes meeting his, seeming to dare him to fuck her throat harder, the same as her madly lashing tongue and her pulling lips. His cock was as big as it had ever been, and felt larger and hotter all the time.

 

Peggy knew it was not long now before he came, a man’s seed filling her throat, her mouth, her belly, whitewashing her tongue, dripping off her palate. She hungered for it, head flying up and down on his cock like a pump, Daniel groaning-gutshot as the sensation spiked, his pent-up seed blasting off like a rocket, a jet straight into Peggy’s mouth.

 

Her head rocked as he blasted her, but she never faltered, mouth pistoning down for every jet of his cum. His spurting cockhead slid into her gullet like a pistol into a holster and he filled her mouth with cum.

 

It’d been so long since Daniel had even thought of sex that all his semen flew from him in one titanic outpouring, Peggy gulping it down as fast as she could, gorging herself with it, but he still filled her to the brim. His cum overflowed her compressed lips, running back down his shaft and trickling down her chin, but finally left his balls hollow.

 

Peggy raised her head, licked up the few errant drops running down his rod, as few as those on her lips. Daniel pulled his pocket square from his jacket, and Peggy graciously accepted it to blot her mouth clean.

 

“And a magnificent aftertaste as well,” she said. “Yes.” She fondled his balls before tucking his prick away. “Quite the rare vintage, this. I think I shall have to partake again.”

 

Daniel’s head had wearily fallen to one side. “Anything for a fellow agent.”

 

“And perhaps you could offer me a similar token of your affection and companionship?”

 

“It would be a pleasure.”

 

Peggy flushed, glancing downward to see a few drops of his sperm had landed atop his wingtips. Giving him an apologetic look, she stooped back down. _Waste not, want not_ she thought as she gave his shoe leather a quick lick. Were it another agent, his dusty, muddy shoes would no doubt leave her with a sour taste, but Sousa’s well-lacquered shoes were clean enough to eat off of.

 

A good sign for their relationship, she thought.

 

Rising out from under the desk, Peggy left Daniel to make himself presentable on his lonesome. As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her ass for the first time. They were quite welcome; she gave him a little wiggle to reward his attention.

 

She had started down this road merely looking for an excuse to divert attention, but ended up acting on an attraction she’d been mostly unaware of. Now, she thought she sensed the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.

 

Meaning out of spontaneity. Howard would be proud of her.


End file.
